


Oasis

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-09
Updated: 2011-08-09
Packaged: 2017-10-22 10:20:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as he's about to set down the Curious Dawdler and leave him to die, the Desolate Deserter finds a cave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oasis

Just as he's about to set down the Curious Dawdler and leave him to die, the Desolate Deserter finds a cave.

It is the only shelter he's seen for weeks now, and more than that, much more, there's water inside. The pool is stale but it tastes wonderful as he dips his fingers in it and slides them into his mouth, his thick tongue feeling nothing but cool pleasure as the water washes over him. On his shoulders, the Dawdler doesn't stir, passed out from exhaustion or heat stroke or something a few miles back. The Deserter sets him on the ground by the pool.

It would be easy enough to kill him and keep all this water for himself, but the Deserter doesn't. He's not entirely certain why he's keeping the Dawdler alive, or why he even saved him from the destruction on Derse. It would have been smarter to have left him there. He could have travelled faster, and food and water would have lasted longer.

But he brought the Dawdler, and it's been so long that he sees no point in killing him not, not unless he has no choice. He dips his fingers in the water again, tucking them into the Dawdler's mouth and waiting. The small man's eyes flutter open.

"Water," Deserter tells him. The Dawdler turns onto his stomach weakly and pushes his mouth straight into the water, drinking deeply from it. Time passes, and the Deserter has to pull the Dawdler out before he accidentally drowns himself. While the Dawdler pants for air, Deserter leans over the water and scoops it up in his hands, drinking it in small little sips. It feels so good to have water again. It's been entirely too long.

Dawdler gags, but he doesn't throw up. He knows better than to throw up, even when he drinks or eats too fast. CD holds it in, arms wrapped around his chest. DD rubs his back absently, looking around the cave. Now that his eyes are adjusted from being out in the sun for so long, he can see that it's not entirely a cave. This was a house once, before it tipped over into the sands and before part of the wall broke away and crumbled, leaving behind a jagged entrance that looks like a cave.

DD stands, and once CD's done his theatrics, he picks him up too and makes his way around the sideways rooms. There's a pantry with food, broken glass bottles of food that long since rotted away to dirt and dust. A few remain intact, dried goods in boxes, pickled things that didn't spoil. He gathers what he knows it safe and tucks them into his pack before continuing through the home.

In one of the lowest rooms, among the sticky remains of dried slime and torn children's toys, he finds something very much like a blanket. It can't really be a blanket since this species never used them, but it's close enough to being a blanket. There are pockets over the surface of it, and in the pockets, dusty cards and little withered bat bodies. He shakes them out and takes the blanket with him back to the entrance by the pool of water.

"DD?" The Dawdler speaks for the first time in a few days. His head rests against the Deserter's shoulder, his arms holding tight to the pack's straps. "I'm hungry."

"I know," He's hungry too. DD sits down by the water, wrapping the blanket around CD and pulling the food back out. He settles on a box that he recognizes: crackers. Normally these would be too dry to eat, but with the water here, they can afford to have them. DD hands a stack to CD, carefully keeping count of what he hands over. The Dawdler will eat and eat until he's sick if the Deserter isn't careful.

"Thank you," The Dawdler waits for the go-ahead from the Deserter before he eats, shoving the crackers into his mouth one after the other. While CD stuffs himself, DD has a handful of his own. The food is stale, but all food is stale out here. At least it isn't rotten.

They eat in silence, but it's rare that they talk for longer than a few minutes these days. Talking dries the mouth out. Anyway, what's there to say? It's the same stuff every single day, over and over and over. There was a time when the Dawdler would whine about how hungry and thirsty he was. But even he had grown silent over the years, having learn that complaining didn't make food or water appear any sooner.

DD's stomach hurts when he's finished, and CD sprawls out on the floor, panting a little as his body starts digesting. But it's a good hurt, and he ends up lying there beside the Dawdler. DD reaches out, grabbing the blanket he found and pulling it around him. Sleep would be good now. It's been so long since they've had somewhere safe to rest.

CD tries to curl up against him and DD carefully pushes him away. This is his blanket. He found it, and he doesn't have share if he doesn't want to. CD can wait until DD finds another one to use. The Dawdler looks at Deserter with that usual sad look on his face before he curls up like a dog and goes to sleep. DD wraps himself tighter and nods off.

Sleep comes easily for him, though it's light and he stirs when he hears a steady rhythmic sound and the sound of heavy breathing. His mind clears away the cobwebs in an instant, and the Deserter cracks open his eye, looking for the source of the noise. It's far closer than he expected, and all to easy to find.

The sound comes from the Dawdler, lying on his side and all curled in around himself. One hand is working feverishly between his legs, the Dawdler's eyes clenched tight as he strokes himself off. DD can see how desperately hard CD's working to stay quiet, his mouth pressed tight together, but he's still making soft little grunts.

He watches for longer than he really should, his eyes tracing over the little bits of body not hidden by rags. DD's own cock stiffens just listening to CD, and he's all too aware that it's been months since he's done this. The desert doesn't lend itself to masturbation, and carrying around CD really only makes it worse. He's snuck off a few times to rub one out, never going too far away from CD just in case something else happens across them in the night. Half the time, he can't even get it up, too fucking hungry and tired to get a hard-on.

But he's got one now. His eyes slide over CD, reevaluating him. There's no one else here, no one for miles and miles. No one but him and Dawdler. He shouldn't. But he wants to, so he does.

One hand slips over CD's chest, slipping down to find where his busy hand it. The moment he touches CD, he feels the Dawdler freeze, like he's about to be hurt. It's easy to simply brush the Dawdler's hand off his cock and to wrap his fingers around it instead. It's bigger than he expected it would be, and he strokes it slowly.

"DD-" CD asks, voice high and hesitant. DD shushes him, jerking CD off slowly. He takes it all in, wrapping himself around CD to full enjoy this. The Dawdler's mouth falls open, sucking in a shocked breath of air. His little hands clutch at DD's blanket and he leans over him to get a good look at those shocked white eyes. CD whispers again, still that questioning tone in his voice. "DD?"

"Shh," He commands. Deserter grips Dawdler tighter, fisting the smaller man's cock. He's so hard right now, harder than he has any right to be. CD shoves a fist against his mouth, whimpering around it. DD wants nothing more than for the fist to be his cock. He can almost imagine how wonderful CD's mouth would be. Dawdler's greedy when it comes to everything out, would he be greedy about this too?

Part of him hopes so. His cock is stiff, nearly as hard as the one clenched tight in his fist. CD has his face turned to look at Deserter, staring at him with an intensity that's almost unsettling. It's almost as if this is the first time he's ever been touched like this. Then again, maybe it is.

He changes his mind, reaching out with his free hand to move the fist away from CD's mouth. A soft groan falls out of his mouth, and CD's eyes widen further, clearly afraid of what will happen. He keeps his grip on CD's wrist though, refusing to let it rise back to his mouth. DD continues to stroke him with the other, his eyes meeting CD's. "Go on. Make your noises."

Dawdler stares up at him, trembling slightly. Deserter squeezes him and draws out a tiny squeal, something caught between pain and pleasure. A quick few pumps and CD makes another soft whine and a gasp. "DD-"

He strokes CD all the faster, determined to get more out of him. CD can't seem to shut up once starts, soft little ah-ah-ah! sounds just pouring out of him. Dawdler squirms, rubbing up against the Deserter's cock and he just closes his eyes, savouring how it feels. It's been years since he's had anything touching him that wasn't his own hand. He's missed this.

DD's caught up in rubbing against CD that he almost misses when the Dawdler comes. He's snapped out of his own thoughts when the Dawdler gasps loudly, and he looks down just in time to see that first white jet of cum. CD presses his face against the ground, making those same grunting noises he did before when DD first caught him jerking off. Deserter strokes the Dawdler until he finishes coming, eyes carefully remembering every last detail of this.

Dawdler's still gasping for air when Deserter decides he's had enough. He throws the blanket off and turns CD's face to look at him. "CD, I want you to do something for me. I don't want you to ask questions. Do you understand?"

CD nods. It's not really clear if he understands or not, but DD takes that as a yes. The Deserter moves them around, getting CD positioned between DD's legs. It's easy to slip a few fingers into that dazed mouth of his, to part them and open them wide. With his other hand, he strokes his cock a few times, shivering at how hard he is to the touch, and then sliding his dick into CD's mouth. CD's eye go wide and his hands press down on DD's thighs, trying to push up, but DD just wraps a hand around the back of his neck and forces his mouth back down.

"Suck on it. That's all you need to do," Deserter's voice is strained as he tries to give instructions. He actually forgot how good blowjobs were. This isn't much of one, not when CD is blinking owlishly at him, but it's wet and hot and his cock couldn't be happier unless it was buried in the Dawdler's ass. There's a thought for next time, if there even is a next time.

CD keeps staring up at DD, so DD takes matters into his own hands. He lets CD up a little, then pushes him back down, getting a shaky rhythm going. It only takes a little demonstration before the Dawdler catches on, bobbing his head of his own accord. The other instruction sinks in after a moment, and he tentatively sucks on the Deserter's cock, looking confused but too sated to demand answers.

Deserter just settles back and enjoys this. It's blatantly obvious that CD has no idea what he's doing, not even some faint concept of what a blowjob should be like. He sucks on DD's cock like it's a straw, those innocent eyes of his so confused by what's happening. DD just groans, enjoying how fucking good it feels to have something other than his fist on his dick. His hand keeps bobbing the Dawdler up and down at a steady enough pace, just fast enough to really enjoy it.

CD's hands curl around DD's wrappings, and he drools around the cock. DD strokes his fingers over CD's head, keeping a close eye on that mouth around him. "That's good," He tells CD, knowing he's going to want some sort of encouragement. "Keep sucking on it."

Dawdler sucks harder, and when DD lets up, CD keeps moving his head on his own, all too eager to do exactly as the Deserter tells him. Deserter still keeps his hand near the Dawdler's head, just in case he gets out of hand, but he lets himself relax. CD's tongue rubs over the ridges on the underside of his cock, and then, Droog hisses as he feels teeth scraping along his cock.

He gets hold of the Dawdler's head, quickly pushing him off before he can do any damage. "I said suck, not bite."

"I wasn't biting!" CD's mouth drops into a frown. But DD can still see those sharp teeth of his, just waiting to dig in again. And if he's being honest with himself, this is good, but he wants something more. He wants to fuck, to thrust, to really pound away. That's not an option right now with CD, not when they're out here surrounded by all this fucking sand that gets into everything.

Except... maybe it is. Deserter pushes Dawdler off and onto his back. As he sprawls out over the cave floor, Deserter kneels over the Dawdler's head. CD stares up at DD, clearly confused, though he opens his mouth when DD lines his cock up with it. "Don't bite. Just keep your mouth like that."

CD nods and DD reaches out, holding his head still. He starts to thrust down into the wet and waiting mouth. CD sucks, though he's sloppier this time, in no small part due to the angle. DD's fine with that. He knows he should worry about CD's head when he starts thrusting harder and faster into the Dawdler's mouth, but he isn't able to care about it when he's desperate to get off.

It's been so fucking long since he fucked anything, even a mouth, and he enjoys every second of this. CD's wide white eyes stay fixed on DD with some surprise and shock. Still he sucks, those little hands of his holding onto DD's thighs. DD thrusts deep into CD's mouth, bringing to mind men and women he's fucked before, long sleek legs and perfectly rounded asses, cunts and cocks and an assortment of features. But they don't stick around. What sticks is the Dawdler and those noises he made while being fucked, his big eyes staring up at the Deserter right now.

Another man might feel terrible about this. DD simply doesn't care about anything other than getting off, and not having CD bite him. CD's a lot more careful about the teeth this time. He's a quick learner and DD takes a moment to appreciate it. Quick learner means he can be trained. It's all too easy to imagine the benefits.

The Deserter grunts softly as he starts to thrust faster. He's getting close. DD's a bit surprised as how long he's lasted with something to jerk off into besides his own fist. Won't be too much longer though. Both hands hold onto CD while he fucks his face, waiting to feel CD's whine or protest or try to push him off. But CD does nothing of the sort. He just sucks and sucks, doing his best to obey. And that's hotter than it has any right to be.

DD comes a moment later, thrusting in deep into CD's mouth and cuming inside of it, feeling nothing but glorious overwhelming pleasure. That finally gets CD squirming, trying to pull his mouth off of DD's cock. But DD's too deep in and CD has no choice but to stay there and wait for DD to finish. He finally does, leaning back and sliding his dick out before flopping beside CD, fighting to catch his breath. Dawdler scrambles onto his knees, quickly leaning over coughing. Even though his brain is scrambled from coming, he sees CD about to spit into the pool of water and he grabs him, yanking him back and getting him settled over a patch of dirt that doesn't matter. CD finishes spitting and coughing, finally looking up at DD. "That was gross."

"You'll get used to it," DD tells him and means it. He scoops up some water, watching off CD's face and then giving him enough to clean his mouth out. CD drinks as much as he's given, clearly still wanting more even when DD finally wipes his hands off.

He's tired and ready to get back to sleep. DD shifts his garb back into place, doing the same with CD's. CD yawns, clearly ready to sleep as well, though he curls up against DD. Unlike last time, DD lets him, grabbing hold of the blanket and throwing it over the both of them.

"Did you like it?" CD sleepily asks, pressing his face against DD's chest. "Did I do good?"

DD settles an arm around him. "Good enough." It's high praise coming from DD. That seems to be enough for CD, who passes out without another word. The Desert just lays there for a while before sleep takes him and he follows the Dawdler into dreams.


End file.
